That’s exactly what happened. But by the time I’m done explaining what went down in Seattle, I’ve gone from feeling sanctimonious to completely dejected.
“I know, right?!” Krista sounds even more upbeat than before as she makes herself comfortable, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “I tell you, I’m going to have some kind of fun teasing him about that at your wedding.”
I shake my head at her. “What part of ‘called me a psycho and sent my butt home’ are you not getting? There’s not going to be a wedding. Whatever I had with Hayato…”
Heartbreak and regret take turns pummeling me as I realize the utter truth of my next words. “It’s over.”
“True love is never over,” Krista declares, rubbing her pregnant belly. “People just die without ever having claimed it. So sad! But you know, we’ll have to talk about all of that later. I came in here to ask you for a teensy weensy favor. I’m going to need you to take care of the panoply for the next few days…”
I groan. I mean, I genuinely appreciate Krista letting me stay here for the rest of the twelve days of Christmas, so that I wouldn’t have to go back to the workshop.
If the elves are at a 10 for cheerfulness most of the year, they crank their merriment up to 100 during this time. Kringles all over the city put on a ton of parties and events, and the other elves pretty much throw themselves into Bacchanoeling—eating, drinking, and getting merry in bed as much as possible during their twelve days off.
I’m pretty meh on Bacchanoeling, and I don’t like anything with a crowd. But I usually enjoy the huge New Year’s Eve show-and-tell at the workshop where we all take turns presenting the third dimension wonders we’ve found over the first seven days of Christmas. And I especially adore assisting Krista with her daily twelve days of Christmas panoply presentation. Not to stereotype, but elves truly love to help. Plus, when you have a gift like mine, it’s way more fun to hang out with someone who has a talent for matchmaking.
But after what happened with Hayato, I don’t think I can take hanging out with all those crazy cheerful elves.
And as for the panoply, “Trust me, I’m not a good fit to take over that project for you. Humans come expecting a cheerful matchmaker who will hook them up with their one true love. Not a heartbroken elf who will tell them ‘hey sorry, but one of the people you hold dear in your heart… they’re about to die.’”
Krista throws her head back, and her laughter tinkles out as if I’ve made a delightful joke.
But I let her know, “I’m totally serious. I am so not the person to do that job.”
“We’ll see about that,” Krista answers, her voice trilling with confidence and good cheer. “In any case, the decision has already been made, and I don’t have time to find someone else.”
“How about…” I start to suggest, at the same time, Krista informs me, “You see, a certain baby has decided that January 2 would be a fine day to make her debut.”
It takes a moment for Krista’s words to sink in, but when they do, I gasp and scramble out of bed. “Oh, my Santa! Is it time?”
“It’s time!” Krista confirms, sounding a lot less concerned about her daughter’s imminent arrival than me.
Leave it to Krista to bury the lead. I run out of the room, yelling, “Hugh! Hugh! It’s time!”
39
Hatsukoi
HAYATO
“That was so, so amazing! Can I hold your hand? I really need to hold your hand right now. Otherwise, I’ll think I’m dreaming and just float away.”
Kristal said that to me as we left the inn in Maine after helping so many ghosts crossover to the next realm. She appeared to be glowing. She was so happy. And that happiness must have been infectious.
“Don’t float away,” I said, taking her hand in mine.
And I didn’t let it go until we arrived at the private airfield.
“Mr. Nakamura, would you like something to drink before takeoff?”
The flight attendant’s question pulls me from the memory. And I find myself on my private plane, which had been refueled and is now finally ready to return to Tokyo.
There’s even a Japanese song playing overhead. Too bad it’s the theme from that insipid sequel to Boys Over Flowers. What was the ballad called again? Oh yes, “Hatsukoi”… First Love…by Hikaru Utada.
Instead of answering, my eyes fall on the People magazine, sitting on top of the empty seat across from me. The latest issue. It was supposed to be a gift for Kristal – a very small one and not nearly up to my usual standard. But I had known when I arranged for it to be waiting on the plane that she’d appreciate this small gift more than any other I could give her.
However, the magazine is still here, clearly untouched even though Krista took the plane to San Francisco yesterday on my orders. Had she even seen it?
Or had she, like me, been too sad to touch it?
Overhead, Hikaru Utada bursts into song’s English refrain, wailing “I need you” over and over again.
“Mr. Nakamura? A drink?” the stewardess asks again.
I rub a hand over my face and answer, “An Asahi, please.”
I let her go. And that was for the best. I remind myself of this fact as I wait for my drink.
She was never going to let the Jae-Hyun thing go. Even worse, she was hell-bent on dragging Norio into it.
Maybe if I had been able to explain the situation to him in private—that had been my plan the day before yesterday, but Norio’s surprise arrival the morning of New Year’s morning had caught me off guard. And I hadn’t been able to pull him away from his family for a quiet explanation before she came down waving those sketches.
Did she not realize that my rational brother wouldn’t believe her nearly as easily as I had? And if I had told him the truth—that not only could I see ghosts, but I was dating an elf with a “gift” for being able to sketch people who would soon be departed, he would never have looked at me the same. Or even worse, he would have insisted on getting me help… my time at the sanitorium burns hot like a stove that should not be touched at the back of my head. She left me with no choice.
So why can’t I stop thinking about her?
Why instead of opening my laptop to return work emails as I had planned, do I pull out my phone and scroll through my recent calls until I come to a number from Christmas Eve.
“Hello, Mr. Nakamura,” Hugh says when he answers the phone. “Is everything all right?”
He sounds surprised to hear from me, and I don’t blame him. I’m surprised to be calling him.
I swallow hard. “I’m not sure if you have access to this information. But I wonder if you know if Kristal Kringle made it back to the workshop yesterday.”
“I do have access to that information, actually. She didn’t make it to the workshop. She’s… ah … here with us. She showed up on our doorstep yesterday evening. She was a bit sad and asked if she might spend the rest of her days off in our guestroom.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say, guilt tearing through me. I know why she was sad. Because of me.